What the Heart Sees
by Aislin30a
Summary: It's not quiet Sex Pollen, but it has it's uses. OR What happens when a helpful alien dusts Kirk with alien voodoo powder to help him connect better with his crew. Shock, angst and humor follows.


What the Heart Sees

A Kirk/Bones one-shot of doom

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I do not, in any way, own any part of Star Trek

Notes:

So.

I've posted my Bleach fanfic here and then (bad fan-girl that I am) went of to the shiny new Star Trek fandom, went SQUEE and I've been frolicking happy in the LiveJournal communities ever since. Then I started writing for that shiny new fandom so I figured I should start posting my stuff in my account here, because I remember a time when this place was my only source for fanfiction and also that not everyone is a part of the LJ experience.

So.

The Fic.

**What the Heart Sees**

If all diplomatic missions could go this well Kirk will be a happy captain.

"Thank you again, for your hospitality, B'Teng." Kirk throws the Al'Lerites' leading representative one of his most winning smiles. "Your planet is beautiful and your people have been very generous to my crew. They really needed something like this."

"It was our pleasure, truly!" B'Teng says, gesturing expansively. Everything about the man is expansive, from his burly form and vividly colored robes to his open expressions and boisterous personality. Kirk can't remember the last time he met someone so honestly enthusiastic about everything. "My people look forward to further exchanges with the Federation."

"The Federation would enjoy that as well." They continue to walk in companionable silence, through a garden of trees and hanging planters overflowing with bright flowers and into a long gallery. The walls are covered with maps of Al'Ler's various nations and paintings of the many representatives which speak for them in the planet's Chamber of Voice. Which, from what Lieutenant Commander Maedde has told him, is a kind of council of international and interplanetary relations. "I have a question for you, B'Teng, if you'd humor me."

"Of course! Ask me anything you will, Captain." The Al'Lerite pauses in their tour of the room and turns to face Kirk.

"It's been a long time since Earth, my own planet, has had separate and sovereign countries." Kirk pauses to consider his next words. He doesn't want B'Teng to think poorly of Earth and Human beings in general and given the nature of the general Al'Lerite temperament, he might find certain information abhorrent. But then, Kirk thinks looking up into B'Teng's open face, the man has been nothing if not accepting the last week. Even seeing some of his crew's more interesting quirks. Kirk decides the best option is to be just as open with B'Teng as he's been with them. "To be honest, a lot of that time they spent at war in one form or another. Even our early attempts at planetary cooperation were little more than tools the stronger nations used to force their will on the weak. We didn't really start changing that until First Contact with the Vulcans. But your planet is so peaceful. You work things out so well even with something so derisive as separately governed nations. How do you do it?"

The entire time Kirk spoke, B'Teng's expression hadn't changed, except for a slight softening of his eyes. As he ends his line of question B'Teng closes his eyes and rumbles deep in his chest, his furry crest quivering. Kirk has never seen this particular display but he recognizes it from Maedde's briefing as deep sorrow.

"It is the way of those just born, to rend their own hearts open and bleeding." He says, opening his eyes to gaze unblinking at Kirk. The statement has the feel of a proverb about it, and Kirk looks back at B'Teng without blinking to show he understands that he's just been given something sacred. "This thing is in Al'Ler's past too, long ago. Though not so long as we would like. We do not see our borders as things that divide us but as things that _unite_ us. If we were one nation, if we saw ourselves as one and the same, what reason would we have to _understand_ each other. When we know we are different, think differently, want different things, we must make that effort. We rarely agree, but we _understand_ the feelings, the thoughts behind our disagreement. So when the Council of Voice comes to a consensus every nation knows it is what we considered to be, _to truly be_, in the best interests of all involved. Perhaps this would not work for Humans or for Earth, but it works well by Al'Ler."

"Thank you." Kirk says and means it. He doesn't get many opportunities like this, to be given this kind of deep insight into another species. It's weird, but in a way he thinks he understands himself better for it. It's because B'Teng was a part of this experience that he shares what he does next."I want to understand my crew the way you understand your own people. They have a fierce loyalty to me, after everything that's happened, especially the Narada incident. But I want to know, really know, that I'll always do what's best for them, not just what I _think_ is best. I want to know that I really deserve that loyalty."

"Ah! I have something for you then." B'Teng grins and starts digging through his robes. A few moments later he makes a satisfied burble from deep in his throat and pulls out a small bag hanging from one of his claws. He picks out the knot holding it closed and dips two long fingers inside. When he pulls them out there's a small pile of shimmery powder dusting his fur. "This is a very special mixture, the recipe is a family secret guarded very closely. My dear sister won't even tell me the ingredients! Apparently, I cannot be trusted to keep my fangs from clicking and my tongue from flapping."

He stage whispers the last part, though there's no one around to 'accidentally' overhear, then throws his head back and laughs. Kirk can't help but laugh with him, the Al'Lerites seem to laugh at everything and even though Kirk doesn't really understand what's so funny half the time, their humor is contagious. Given the serious turn their conversation had taken, Kirk would have laughed at anything just then. He laughs up to the point when B'Teng blows that shimmery powder right in his face. Then he's wheezing. B'Teng's hearty slaps on the back double him over.

"You say you wish to better understand your crew so you might be a good Captain to them. And in wanting this you are already worthy of their admiration. With this mixture in your skin, your crew will look on and see their Captain as the one they love most. Much understanding will come from this!" Gongs start sounding in the background and B'Teng looks up with a sad sigh and gives Kirk one last swat across his shoulders. "Prayer is being called, my friend. I wish I could stay to see your departure but the Holy One waits for no one. Safe travels for you and your fine ship. I hope fortune steers you to this world again."

Kirk watches the grinning Al'Lerite stride across the room, his claws clicking on the tile floor, and exit through one of the many arched doorways leading out of the gallery. Slowly, he lifts one finger and runs it down his face. It comes away with a new sheen to it. _Well, damn. Bones is just going to_ love _this__._

"Commander Spock?" Kirk speaks into his communicator, still staring (pretty stupidly he's sure) at his finger.

"_Yes, Captain?_"

"We've got our course plotted for our next engagement, right?"

"_Yes, Captain._"

"Good. As soon as I'm on board get us going at warp four."

"_Understood._"

"Scotty, beam me the hell outta here."

"_Aye, Cap'n!_"

The familiar pull of the transporter permeates his body in the swirl of light that surrounds him. The weathered gallery fades out of his vision and is replaced by the clean lines of one the Enterprise's many transporter rooms. Scotty glances up to confirm his captain's presence, flashes an amused smile then activates the comm on the transporter controls. Kirk finds the exchange much more reassuring than is probably good for his ego.

"The Cap'n is aboard Commander Spock, all personnel are now accounted for." Kirk has returned his attention back to his hand while Scotty makes his report and shuts down the platform. There's a tingling sensation across his face as he watches the shimmer fade from the pad of his finger. Which he really thinks can't possibly be a good sign. "A bit anxious to be away are w- GREAT SCOTT!"

"Holy shit! The hell Scotty?" He snaps his head up to see what's got his chief engineer freaking out, only to see the man looking at him with an expression that quite clearly indicates the man thinks he's gone completely, stock raving mad.

"Oh, tha's... Ugh." Scotty falls back into his chair, still staring transfixed at Kirk and lets out a small, hysterical laugh that's really more of a whimper. "I think I need a wee bit of a lie down, Cap'n."

"What? Why-" B'Teng's little speech comes back to him just then. "That damn _powder_. I can't believe this shit."

Kirk pauses for a second then looks Scotty over suspiciously. "Ah, hell... You didn't, you know, just fall in love with me, did you?"

"I, what? No. Why would ya think that?" The engineer's voice cracked a little at the end.

"B'Teng said this powder shit he blew in my face would make people see me as the one they loved most."

He looks a little bewildered at Kirk's explanation then shakes his head in disbelief. "Heh, well now. I do pride myself in puttin' my heart an' soul inta my work, but tha's just depressing."

Scotty gives him one last worried look then makes his way toward the exit in a bit of a hurry. Kirk stumbles off the platform after him, just barely catching the engineer's muttered '_I need ta get out more_' over the hiss of the automated doors. He turns to follow Scotty down the hall, mouth opened to call after him, wanting to get some answers when a another voice calls out, half surprised and half questioning.

"_Spock_?"

Kirk turns at the sound of Uhura's voice, she's facing him but his first officer isn't anywhere to be seen. She looks back the way she came, ponytail whipping with the quick movement. Then turns back to look at him, clearly confused. She takes a hesitant step forward. "Weren't you just...?"

"Spock should be on the Bridge, Lieutenant. If you'll excuses me I really need to... Uhura, you okay?" If her jaw wasn't attached to her head, Kirk is sure it would be hitting the floor.

"Are the transporters malfunctioning _again_?"

"What? No, they're fine. At least I think they're fine. Why?" Instead of answering Uhura strides forwards, grabs Kirk by the arm and drags him in front of the transporter room, pointing at his reflection in the metal doors. What _should_ be his reflection, except that it's wearing science blue, has pointed ears and a weird-ass bowl cut that would look ridiculous on anyone but a Vulcan. Which he now appears to be.

"Oh, shit. How the?" He looks down at himself but his jersey is still command gold. He looks back up at the reflection, watching as he frantically runs his hands through his first officer's severe hair cut which still feels like his own. "I don't, but I don't _look_ like that! I'm not, I'm still me! I still _sound_ like me."

He's practically whining but he's not sure he really cares at the moment. Uhura looks just as confused as he does. She reaches up to smooth out what she apparently sees as Spock's ruffled hair and Kirk watches their reflections as Uhura's hand passes straight through Spock's head before landing on his own, her wrist sticking out just below Spock's hair. She jerks her hand back instantly.

"Some kind of illusion." She says a little weakly.

Kirk turns away from the doors and snaps his communicator open. "Kirk to Sick-bay!"

"_Dammit, Jim. You don't have to yell_." And even though Bones sounds irritated with his general idiocy, the sound of his friend's voice brings Jim down from _Totally Freaking Out_ to just _Moderately Panicked_ in an instant.

"Bones! Listen, B'Teng, you remember him? He blew this powder in my face and at first I was fine. Then I felt all tingly. And then Scotty freaks out and Uhura thinks I look like Spock cause it makes you see the-" He stops abruptly while a few things click into place in his head. "Oh, my God. My chief engineer has a crush on i_my_/i fucking i_ship_/i."

"_... Jim? Are you high?_"

"NO!"

"He's not, Len." Uhura says, and Jim wonders when they went to a first name basis. "I don't know about the last bit, but if it wasn't the Captain's voice coming out of his mouth I'd swear to you I was standing next to Spock."

"_Nyota? Okay. Jim start over from the beginning. What happened?_"

"B'Teng blew powder in my face. His exact words were '_they will see their Captain as the one they love most_'. Uhura sees me as Spock, only when I look down I still look like myself. So it's just some kind of illusion."

"_Right. Come straight to Sick-bay for decontamination. Lieutenant, please escort the Captain so he doesn't get into any more trouble._"

"Hey, it's not like I do this shit on purpose!"

"_Ya coulda fooled me._"

*

They pass several crew members on the way to Sick-bay but as most of them are preoccupied with their duties Uhura only has to make the _No you're not loosing your mind, the Captain just got hit by alien voodoo __again_ speech once. When they arrive the med staff are just finishing adjusting the settings on the de-cam unit. Two nurses are laying out equipment for tissue and blood samples which is how Jim knows the day has officially hit rock bottom. They look up at the sound of the doors and both blush furiously. There's a moment of confusion as they reach for the same PADD, some incomprehensible apologies where they both avoid looking at the other and then one dashes off to the crash room while the other makes a brake for a tech station. So maybe the day won't be _too_ bad after all.

"Right, so we've got everyone briefed on this then?" Bones is standing near the tech station where Blushing Nurse B has taken refuge with his back to Jim. Chapel is standing in front of him with a stack of PADDs and an attentive expression.

"Yes. Gamma shift and parts of Delta are in their sleep cycle, but they'll see the Priority Two when they wake up." She looks down at the PADDs and selects the third in the stack, glances over it and holds it out for the CMO's inspection. "This is everything we could find on recreational, ritual and illegal substances in powdered or granular form known to exist on Al'Ler. The list is fairly extensive."

"Right. Once we get a sample off the Captain we can cross reference chemical signatures and symptoms. See if we can narrow things down." Bones says as he examines the PADD. Chapel is nodding an affirmative when she glances over his shoulder. She goes pale and her mouth makes a perfect "o" as the rest of her pile crashes to the floor. Bones catches her before she can follow them.

"So, yeah. We're here." Jim says, feeling a little awkward.

"So I gather!" Bones doesn't look toward them as he half guides, half carries his head nurse to a bio-bed and gets her seated on it. He holds her steady with a hand on her shoulder and fans her face with the PADD he'd been reading. She has a hand pressed over her heart and her lips are moving so fast Jim thinks even Uhura wouldn't be able to recognize what she's saying. "Dammit, Jim, now I'm afraid to look at you."

He does anyway, turning slowly, eyes focused around his knees then traveling up to Jim's face. For a moment he looks confused, then his mouth goes slack in shock and he tilts his head just a bit to one side like he can't believe what he's seeing.

"Bones?"

"Oh. Sweet. _Jesus_." He falls back into the chair by the side of Chapel's bio-bed, fanning forgotten for the moment. There are some gasps from the remaining med-techs working on the de-cam unit, who have shifted their attention to whatever caused that kind of reaction from their CMO, namely, Jim. One of them starts to giggle uncontrollably and is lead off by a worried looking colleague.

"Disconcerting, isn't it?" Uhura says from beside him. She walks to the bio-bed, takes the PADD from Bones' slack hand and starts fanning Chapel, who still looks pretty pale. Jim's not quiet sure what to do at this point. He's managed to incapacitate most of the available medical staff and his best friend is starring at him like his world has ground to a screeching halt. He figures now is probably as good a time as any to bring up one of his more pressing concerns.

"So, about those tissue samples... you really don't need to do those right?"

"Tissue samples? Jim, I'm having a bit of a moment here!"

"Yeah, but I'm just saying... Wait." Jim looks his friend over. Emotional whiplash is a good look for Bones. It makes all his limbs go loose, washes the tension out of his shoulders as all his energy is focused on keeping himself from going into psychological shock. If it weren't for the look of utter disbelief on his face his overall posture could have been casually seductive. Jim is curious, really _needs_ to know, who's face his friend is seeing right now.

"Hey, Bones. Who do you see when you look at me?"

"What? I- _what_?" His voice has gone a little high at the end and Jim can see the white all around his hazel-green irises.

"Ahhh, Bonesy! You don't have a crush on one of your nurses do you?" Jim teases and laughs at the doctor's 'i_are you fucking shitting me_/i' expression. He can't help teasing a little more. "Or is it one of my yeomen? Are you going to need an escort when you visit the bridge? Hey, Bones, you say something if it was me, right? Don't be shy, the Jim Kirk fan club would accept you into their expansive bosom with-"

"Joanna. I see Joanna." Jim could seriously kick himself right now, and from the look Uhura's giving him she seems to really want to help with that. But there's a sudden flash of her hand sticking out of "Spock's" forehead and Jim knows he can't keep himself from asking, because that little detail will eat away at him if he doesn't.

"She's like, seven though. Shouldn't her head be around here?" He gestures somewhere just above his navel.

"She's older. I guess... I guess when she'd understand..." _Why her Daddy left her_ is the unspoken end to that sentence. He looks lost, blinks and wrinkles his eyebrows like he's just realized what words came out of his mouth. It's physically painful to see him like that. Jim doesn't need to see Uhura's steely glare or the way Chapel's gone all tear-ily maternal in her CMO's general direction to know he's just made a total jack ass of himself. He rakes his mind trying to find something to pull his friend out, to lighten the mood.

"So, yeah, those tissue samples. Your nurses have gone into hiding rather than face the hotness that would be their lesbian love affair. So we can skip that bit, right?"

Bones groans and runs his hand down his face. "Remind me, when Joanna reaches dating age, to force her to wear potato sacks and never wash her hair. I'm gonna need a gun. A really _big_ shotgun."

"Pffh, Bones! You're on a star ship. You've got photon torpedoes and a whole security force to be your shovel team. But seriously. _Focus_." Bones blinks, looks up at him and scowls.

"What did you say about my nurses?"

"Excellent. Glad we're on the same page."

*

In the end he still had to give the tissue samples.

It could have been worse though. After giving Chapel her break early Bones had retrieved his AWOL nurses to collect the samples. The CMO eventually had to take them himself as his nurses kept mistaking each other for their captain. Even if Bones hadn't been able to look him in the eye the whole time the lead up had been worth it.

Kirk is walking down the hall on his way to the terbolift, having been ordered by Bones to stay in his own quarters until Spock can come up with a good way to debrief the crew on the situation. He's not particularly happy about it but given the circumstances it's probably a good idea. Bones had originally wanted Kirk to say out of the way until the medical staff worked out what he'd been exposed to and how to reverse the effects, but there had been _no way_ Kirk would agree to that. They had no idea how long that would be and he'd probably go stir crazy before they worked out a solution.

He's just thinking that he isn't looking forward to eating replicator food for dinner this evening when he hears someone approaching from around a corner. He stops, wondering if he should make himself scarce, but really where is he supposed to go? It's too late now anyway, whoever it is has just about made it to his hall, is rounding the corner and looking up.

Chekov's face breaks out into an ecstatic smile, there's no shock and no mortified embarrassment, which is a refreshing change from Sick-bay. Kirk is curious now, to find out who Chekov sees.

"Hikaru! I was expecting you to still be working on that botany experiment!" His navigator chirps, there's really no other way to describe it, excitedly at him. "I was wanting to ask you, if there is time after second Rho Shift, maybe we could run the Gwarly sim again? We can do a much better time, I think."

"Lieutenant Sulu? _Really._" Kirk says, amused. He really should have seen that one coming considering the amount of time the two spent exchanging messages on their consoles while they were supposed to be working.

"Keptin?" Chekov asks, forehead wrinkling in confusion. "Why do you look like Sulu?"

"Why indeed." Kirk replies, grinning widely. He strides forward and claps a hand on Chekov's skinny shoulder. "You know, piloting sims really aren't very romantic. Try star gazing off the observation deck instead."

He walks off, leaving a gaping Chekov behind him and fighting the urge to laugh. As he passes a nearby intersection he spots a silhouette out of the corner of his eye. He pauses to take a glance and really does laugh now.

"Flowers! Now we're headed in the right direction. At ease Mr. Sulu."

*

When Kirk makes it back to his quarters he lets out a sigh of relief. Any thoughts that his current situation would be in any way fun, entertaining, or humorous have been thoroughly abandoned. Ensign Thomson pulling him into a vacant science lab for a spontaneous make-out session had been enjoyable up to the point where he'd had to explain that, no he wasn't crewman Smitt and then reassure her that, no he wasn't going to hold her actions against her. It hadn't gotten any better after that. He'd had his ass pinched by a lieutenant old enough to be his mother, seen a young engineer he didn't recognize burst into tears right in front of him, and dealt with the aftermath of a science officer going pale at the sight of him and promptly throwing up all over the floor.

Stripping off his command jersey, Kirk makes his way to the replicator, letting the shirt fall to the floor. He'll clean up later. He puts in a request for a ham and turkey sandwich with fries and then makes his way to the bathroom. His morning things are still scattered over the counter, the cabinet door is open and his towel has dried on the floor. He'd been in too much of a rush to get down to the planet for his final meeting with B'Teng to bother with being neat. He'll clean that up later, too. For now he turns on the faucet, splashes water over his face and runs his hands over his neck and through his hair.

He's going to have to come up with some way to keep from getting mixed up with other crew members, if his experiences with Uhura, Chekov and Thomson were anything to go by. The ship-wide announcement of the situation should take care of the rest. Well, not really take care of it because, God, even _knowing_ what to expect can't prepare someone for seeing a dead loved one. But maybe they could at least avoid more tears or vomit in the halls.

Taking a deep breath, Kirk turns off the water and dries his hands and face on the towel from the floor. He folds it haphazardly and drops it on the toilet seat before reaching out to close the cabinet. He gives his reflection an absentminded glance and freezes, his hand still on the mirrored door.

He hadn't really thought about what his reflection would look like when there wasn't someone around for the Al'Lerian magic powder to act off of. But if he had stopped to consider it, he would have concluded that his own reflection wouldn't look any different than it normally did. But the face in the mirror doesn't belong to him.

It belongs to Bones.

But not Bones because Bones isn't there.

The Not-Bones reflection is looking back at him, eyes wide and full lips parted in shock. He's got a five-o'clock shadow and his normally well groomed hair is tousled. Instead of his science blues he's wearing a threadbare t-shirt that shows off his shoulders. He looks fucking gorgeous, this Not-Bones, like he's been thrown down and thoroughly fucked. The grass stains on his arms and the fluffy white dandelion seeds caught in his hair only add to that impression. And the thought of _Bones_ having sex out in the open where anyone could just walk by and see is the hottest thing Jim can imagine. The way he'd look, eyes blown, head thrown back and mouth gasping, moaning--

And the realization hits him, reaches into his chest and _squeezes_, because he remembers where he's seen this Bones. His head _was_ thrown back and his mouth _was_ gasping, but he's laughing not moaning. The memory is so vivid, Jim sees it all perfectly. It's summer, their classes over for the week, the sun is warm and the grass is soft. Bones is holding his little girl, come to visit for the day -only a day-, over his head and laughing, really laughing from his heart. Jim had never heard it before, has barely heard it since. It was beautiful. And then he's spinning, seeds drifting around them from the clump of dandelions -_make a wish, Daddy_- she's got clutched in one hand. And she's shrieking with the kind of all encompassing joy that only a child can experience. Except maybe Bones can feel it too, just then, holding her close to his chest because he's got this _smile_ like his life is just _perfect_ right then, like he's really _in love_ with the world-

Jim's hand hurts.

From yanking the cabinet door open, he realizes. He's gasping for breath, leaning against the counter for support and staring at an aspirin bottle like it's the only thing keeping him grounded because if he doesn't, he has to deal with the fact that his face is wet again. There's a chime from the replicator. His sandwich is ready but he ignores it.

He's not hungry.

*

He has a couple of PADDs with "_Captain James T. Kirk_" typed in large, easy to read letters hanging from his neck and he feels like an idiot.

He's pacing in his ready room because he can't stand being on the bridge anymore. He's spent i_two days_/i trying to pretend that his Alpha team aren't avoiding looking at him (all except Spock who thinks avoidance of an issue is illogical), or that Sulu and Chekov aren't spending their time utterly silent both verbally and technologically. Which is such _shit_ because if anyone should have bounced merrily from friendship to something more it should have been those two, but now they don't even look at each other.

And, _God_, the view screen. Twenty feet filled with the black of space, the reflection of the entire bridge, faint but there. The way the body in the captain's chair, _his chair_, kept flickering was driving him nuts: From Chekov to Uhura to – Bones, in his sweatpants, hair ruffled, the way he looked waking up on a Saturday morning back in the dorms – yeoman Baits to someone's gray haired grandmother to – Bones, scrubs wrinkled and stained with blood, just off a five hour emergency surgery and looking relieved it's over but with that satisfied glow in his eyes, he'd done good today – Sulu to a little boy missing his front teeth to – Bones, in his science blues – Spock to Bones to Ensign Andrews to Bones to a wife, Uhura, Bones, a child, Bones, Chekov, Bones, Sulu, Bones, a mother, Bones, Spock, Bones, Bones, Bones, Bones, Bones-

"This fucking SUCKS!"

"I'm afraid I don't understand the metaphor."

"Holy shit, Spock! Way to sneak up on a guy." Kirk rests his hip against his desk and peaks out from between his fingers at his view screen. His reflection has shifted into Uhura with Spock's entry into the room and he feels truly pathetic at his own relief. "Okay, what's up?"

"Captain, a fixed three-dimensional directionality is not applicable in space. One could safely say that everything and nothing is up."

"What I meant was, what are you doing here?"

"A report came from medical after you vacated the bridge." Spock states simply. "It seems they have exhausted their list of possible substances which you could have been contaminated with. None have produced a match."

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. B'Teng said it was a family recipe. I kinda hoped they'd find something though." There's a tense silence from Spock's direction and when Kirk turns to ask about it he sees that his first officer's right eyebrow has nearly disappeared into his bangs. "What'd I say?"

"Captain, that particular piece of information would have likely been very useful before now."

"What information? I-" And he realizes now what Spock means. In the whole decontamination process, somewhere between Chapel nearly fainting and Bones giving him the 9th degree while staring determinedly at his PADD, he'd forgotten to mention the secret recipe aspect of the equation. "Well shit."

"Something of that nature would be unlikely to enter Star Fleet's registry. As such, we could have saved quite a lot of time if we had known."

"Yeah, I got it." Kirk sighs, rubbing his hands over his face. "Okay, I know we wanted to avoid getting a hold of B'Teng in case he finds our lack of enthusiasm offensive but we really need some information here. Maybe we can convince his sister to throw us a bone."

"I will discus the best approach for phrasing our request with Lieutenant Uhura and Lieutenant Commander Maedde. If the Captain would ascertain from Dr. McCoy what information would be of the most use for his team?"

"You know, I'm pretty sure there's a regulation somewhere that says the First Officer is supposed to take on all the really dangerous missions so the Captain can live to fight another day."

"Your position on such regulations has been made abundantly clear in the past, Captain."

"... Dammit."

*

Kirk types in the door code to Bones' quarters and walks right in because damn if he's going to stand in the hall waiting to be let in. He can't take seeing another member of his crew doing a confused double-take today, and if one more person walks into a wall with their mouth hanging open he's going to scream. He jerks the PADDs hanging from his neck off and throws them at the couch, walks through the partition into the bedroom without bothering to see where they land. He can hear water running in the bathroom.

"Bones? Chapel said you came back here-" He does a double take of the bathroom, of Bones splashing water over his face, of the razor lying by the sink. "Were you _shaving_?"

"Yes, Jim. I've been so tied up trying to figure out how to fix you I forgot to take the damn beard suppressant." Bones says, wiping his razor dry before tucking it away in its case.

"I can't believe you use one of those ancient things." Jim slides through the door and behind Bones' back, it's a tight squeeze between the shower and the sink and he can feel the heat coming off his friend's back. "Shouldn't you be ranting about blood poisoning from razor nicks or something?"

"Those dissolving foams make me feel like a damn fool. Nothing can replace a good razor, and I keep mine clean and sharp. What are you doing?" Jim stops examining Bones' freshly shaved jaw and wipes the last bit of shaving cream off the bottle's nozzle. He brings his finger up to the bottom corner of the mirror and draws a face. The move is sufficiently inane and juvenile to fool his friend into thinking that had been Jim's purpose for their close quarters, to make Bones forget the thoughtful look Jim had directed at his earlobe.

Hopefully.

"There, shaving cream smiley. Your routine is now complete." Jim smirks, hesitates, then glances up to catch the sight of Bones rolling his eyes in the mirror, and screams.

"HOLY FUCK!"

His shock propels him back, crashing into the shower door before it registers the sudden pressure of his body and slides open. Jim collapses in a heap on the stall floor, breathing hard. He'd been mentally preparing himself, almost subconsciously, for what he would see if he ever looked into a mirror while around Bones. Ever since his CMO had told him who he saw when he looked at Jim, he'd been psyching up for it. Had been willing himself to bury the hurt (God, his little girl, how can he be jealous of that?) ever since he'd looked into his own mirror and seen Bones' face. All so he could show a real delight at seeing his best friend's daughter as she would be. He'd been ready for, had expected with _such a certainty_, a striking young woman with hazel eyes.

He hadn't been prepared to see his own face smirking back at him.

"Jim?" Bones is bending over, reaching to help him up. His normally gruff voice is laced with worry.

"You _fucking_ liar."

Bones' hand stops halfway and now he sounds confused. "What?"

"That wasn't Joanna. The reflection." Bones looks confused for a moment longer then his face registers his shocked understanding. "Yeah, guess I forgot to mention that."

"Jim-" There's pain there, but he hurts too, has been hurting for days, so he really doesn't care at this point. Jim gets up, slaps Bones' hand aside and pushes past him out into the bedroom. "Jim, please, I didn't mean to."

"Didn't _what_?" Jim snaps, whipping around to face him. "Didn't mean to _love_ me?"

"I didn't mean to lie to you."

"You could have told me to fuck off! You didn't have to say it was her, you didn't have to say that!"

"I was expectin her! When I looked up and saw you, how do you think I felt? I didn't know. Not until then, I didn't know."

Jim blinks and few times and swallows. Takes a deep breath and says in a small voice, smaller than he's ever felt. "I didn't either."

"Of course ya didn't, Jim. If I didn't, how could you?"

"No! I mean, what I meant was- Shit." He takes a breath, then another, decides his nerves can just go fuck themselves, grabs Bones by the his shirt and smashes their mouths together. It's desperate and messy but it makes everything seem so much better. Bones' lips are moving against his, soft and warm, then pull away.

"Jim?"

"It works on me, too. When I'm alone. I see you." He pulls them back, sucking and biting. Moves his hands down, over his chest to his hips, pulling his shirt up to get at warm skin. Bones is running his own hands over Jim's arms, firm soothing strokes, then up into his hair to cradle his head. He pulls them apart and Jim moans at the loss.

"Shhh, slow down darl'n. This ain't a race."

"God, I know, I'm so bad at this. I tried to push Sulu and Chekov along and now they won't even look at each other." Bones pulls Jim forward to rest their foreheads together and chuckles deep in his chest. "Stop laughing! This is serious, Bones."

"They showed up in Sick-bay ta tell me how weird you were actin. Got most of the way through their story when Spock made his announcement. They were pretty mortified. Chekov ain't eighteen for another month an they didn't want no one ta know till then." It takes a moment for the words to sink in. When they do Jim jerks back and stares into Bones' smiling eyes.

"Those sneaky little bastards!" Bones laughs outright at that. Jim thinks there are much better things for his mouth to be doing than laughing at him and pulls it back against his own. But Bones pulls away again. Not for long, though. Soon he's pressing chaste kisses against Jim's cheek, then his temple, gently over both eyes, his hands carding through his hair. Jim has kissed and been kissed by a lot of people. He's felt clashing teeth and bruised lips against his own, open mouths mapping his body. None have ever felt like this.

Bones' breath is ghosting over his mouth again when Jim's communicator goes off.

"Shit. Spock must be paging me." He pulls back and flips his comm open to see the time. Yeah, he really should have gotten back to the bridge by now.

"Right, I should probably head back to Sick-bay." Bones looks him over, eyes flicking from his eyes to his hair, over his mouth, he leans in for one last kiss before turning away.

Jim heads into the bathroom to try and make his hair look less like he's just been fucked into his CMO's mattress, even if that's not, regrettably, what actually happened. Bones is rummaging through his drawers just outside the door, trying to find a clean jersey, so when he looks into the mirror he sees his own face staring back at him. And now that his insides have unknotted themselves and he isn't about to have a heart attack at seeing his own blue eyes he _really sees_ his own reflection through his best friend's eyes.

"Hey, Jim? What did you come in here for in the first place?" Bone's asks, voice muffled as he pulls on a shirt. "You mentioned Chapel, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you guys, that powder B'Teng used was some kinda super secret family recipe." Jim replies, not taking his eyes off his reflection for a second. Not even to see the way that muscle in his CMO's temple twitches. "Spock wants to know what info you need if we can convince B'Teng's sister to talk to us."

"A _what_? Three days, Jim! Three! I'm gonna _kill_ you."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you, too." Jim grins and his reflection grins back, wearing his ratty old leather jacket and a pink windbreaker folded over one shoulder, dandelion seeds dusting his hair.

*****

**End  
**


End file.
